


Expectations

by IreneSpring



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, Character Analysis, Gen, Therapy, hurt/comfort?, season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 12:31:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19357069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneSpring/pseuds/IreneSpring
Summary: After concerning Josh, C.J. is told to meet with Stanley about the events of season 7. Rated T for cursing.





	Expectations

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I forgot to bring up Leo's death here because I wrote the first draft very quickly and couldn't think of a place to put it. I do think Leo's death is a very important part of season 7. Also, I know that Stanley is known for not deliberately asking about feelings and he sort of does in this piece, but I think that he didn't mention feelings to Josh because of his specific goal of helping Josh remember the shooting without reliving it, and he would use different tactics in different circumstances. Finally, this is what I warned about in my bio. Danny is not there for Hurt/Comfort purposes. Sort of the opposite. Sorry.

“I think you know why you’re here today.” The room is empty except for a table, two chairs, the psychiatrist someone brought in, and herself.

“I think I do, but I also think it’s pointless,” she says sharply. There are a million things she could be doing right now. She could be in the situation room, or she could be working on the budget, she could be meeting with Josh, hell, she could be briefing the press…

“C.J.?” the psychiatrist, Stanley apparently, asks the question like he said something that she missed.

“Hmm?” 

“I asked you why you thought you were here.”

“Oh.”

“So why do you?” Stanley asks patiently and C.J. resists the urge to roll her eyes. She’s not a psych patient. She’s just been having some bad days. It’s not a crime.

“I think it’s because my boyfriend wants to have me committed,” she goes for the easy laugh, though she’s learned by now that these types of people don’t tend to laugh at jokes.

“Now, I know that’s not actually what you think, but it’s interesting that that is the joke you make.” God she really hates these people. Not everything is a tell. It was just the first joke that popped into her brain.

“No, Stanley, it’s really not. If you talk to people they’ll tell you that sometimes I tell random jokes. I don’t hate my boyfriend, nothing’s wrong. And, pardon me if this is rude, but I think this is a waste of time.”

“We actually did talk to people,” Stanley informs her casually. “That’s not what they said.”

“Oh really? What did they say?” she asks. Maybe the answers will give her some clue as to who to fire.

“They said you used to make jokes, but that lately, as in this past year, you haven’t been doing that at all.” This time C.J. does roll her eyes to cover up some of the sting. That’s probably the thing she hates most of all, that she  _ used _ to do this or that. It’s what makes her feel like there’s something wrong with her. There isn’t. She’s fine. 

“Well maybe if my coworkers hadn’t been so incompetent I would have been more in the mood to make jokes,” she snarks, leaning back in her chair.

“Your coworkers’ ability levels changed dramatically within the last year?” Stanley asks. He’s staring at her, and she stares right back. She’s not going to be reduced to some bawling school girl confessing that she doesn’t like how she looks in the mirror or some shit like that.

“What do you want me to say Stanley? If I say yes, you won’t believe me. If I say no-” Shit, what would happen if she said no?

“If you said no…” Stanley prompts.

“Then you’d probably read too much into it. It was a dumb comment to make. I was pissed at my coworkers for a second so I insulted them. Forgive me.”

“Okay, so if it isn’t incompetence of your peers, why don’t you tell jokes?” Stanley asks.

“Because I have a country to run, Stanley. This is the White House, not a comedy bar. There are only so many hours in a day and excuse me if I like to keep things professional. Within the past year is when we started our mission in Kazakhstan. There’s more to do.”

“Why do you keep asking for forgiveness?” Stanley asks.

“Stanley, what the hell-”

“You keep asking me for forgiveness. ‘Pardon me,’ ‘forgive me,’ ‘excuse me…’ Every other thing you say is prefaced by some form of request for forgiveness.”

“Well I’m sorry if I’m trying to be polite during this absurd exercise.”

“There it is again.”

“Stanley, I really am just trying to be polite. If you want, I can be rude. I really don’t care. I think someone on my staff is just wasting your time.”

“I was asked to talk to you by Josh Lyman, and encouraged further by your assistant. Are those two people who have a vested interest in wasting our time?” Oh great, Josh thinks she’s crazy. That bodes well for their negotiations about the transition team.

“No, but I think they’re mistaken.”

“C.J., if you truly believe you only keep apologizing to be polite, I think you’re mistaken.”

“Well then, psychiatry man, why do I keep apologizing?” C.J. asks.

“Why did you make that joke about your boyfriend in the beginning of our meeting?”

“Stanley, I asked you a question,” C.J. says.

“Are you close to the President? I know you were a suspect in the leak investigation. Maybe that affected your relationship a little bit?” 

“Stanley, I asked you a question,” C.J. repeats, an edge creeping into her voice. 

“I’m trying to formulate an answer C.J.! Now, what’s going on with your boyfriend?”

“Nothing’s going on, Stanley!” C.J. insists. “We’re fine. Danny’s great. We’re having some growing pains but we’re fine. There’s no reason.”

“But you said he doesn’t like the way you think.”

“It was a joke, I was kidding, don’t couples usually joke about each other?” C.J. asks. “Hey, isn’t that what you were on me about anyway. Not joking? Turns out I am joking. So I’m fine! I can go.”

“C.J., the fact that you haven’t been joking suggests that what you said about Danny wasn’t a joke. And I’ve been around people and heard many jokes. It wasn’t a joke. Your boyfriend doesn’t like the way you think?”

“Danny likes the way I think fine. I mean, we’ve hit rough patches-”

“Describe them.”

“That’s a little personal,”C.J. says.

“I’m a psychiatrist. I’m supposed to get into the personal. I’m also bound by confidentiality. You’re not going to see whatever you say in a newspaper, I promise.” C.J. relaxes a little, and then retenses when she realizes Stanley could be getting something from her reaction.

“Well, there was that time where he basically said I wasn’t doing anything for the country. And there was that time where he left me in the middle of a street when I wouldn’t commit to him, and that’s basically it. But listen, Stanley, on that last part he was right. I was being stupid. I didn’t know how to do relationships because I’ve been in this building so long. We worked it out. That’s it. We’re moving to California together, and he’s going to teach me how to be better at relationships.”

“That must have hurt.”

“What?” C.J. asks, kicking herself for revealing so much so fast.

“You just said that you can’t do relationships because you’ve been working in the White House for so long, but also that he’s told you you haven’t been doing anything for the country while you’ve been working in the White House. It sounds like he’s making it seem like you wasted your life.”

“You’re real fun to talk to, Stanley.”

“It did hurt, right?”

“Stanley-” C.J. begins.

“C.J. Answer the question.”

“Yes, it hurt.”

“Did you tell him it hurt?”

“Stanley, I thought you were a psychiatrist, not a relationship counselor.”

“C.J., you’re a very smart woman. Do you honestly not see how the reasoning behind you telling him or not telling him could be related to your overall mental health?”

“I think I understand.”

“Great,” Stanley continues, “so did you tell him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I was being stupid, Stanley!” C.J. says a little too loudly. “Because Danny’s a good person! He would never hurt me. He’s been chasing me for eight fucking years! All my friends love him, and he tells me every day that he’s nice, and not scary, and that everything will be fine,” she takes a deep breath. “I was being stupid. I was looking for reasons to avoid the only person who seems to care about me.”

“Eight years? That’s a lot.”

“I guess.”

“Must be a lot of expectations to live up to.”

“Danny’s great,” C.J. repeats.

“I never said he wasn’t.”

“You were thinking it.”

“C.J., if either of us is a mind reader, I think it’s me. Now, do you feel like he has expectations of you?”

“Well yeah, but most couples have expectations for each other, right?” C.J. asks.

“Well most people expect common decency, that’s true, but I’m talking about a different kind of expectation, C.J. Maybe he wants you to be someone else”

C.J. looks down before saying, “He doesn’t.”

“Really? I mean eight years is a lot of time, and it sounds like you’ve been fighting a little bit. Don’t you think it’s possible he has an image of someone else in his mind?”

“Danny’s great.”

“That’s not an answer, C.J.!” The anger in his voice startles her and she’s mortified to find tears in her eyes. She blinks a few times before sighing.

“How many times have I said that?”

“What?”

“That Danny’s great, or something to that effect.”

“About three times in less than a minute.”

“That tells you something doesn’t it?” she groans. 

“Yes, C.J., it does.”

“What?”

“Maybe I’ll tell you that when you get around to answering my question: do you think Danny is unhappy with who you are now?”

“Yes,” she whispers, staring at the table. 

“That must hurt,” Stanley notes.

“You’re a fucking genius Stanley. My boyfriend not liking who am must hurt? Damn, where’s the Nobel prize?” C.J. hisses. “It hurts I guess, but I’m not angry. We’re fine.”

“Why?” Stanley asks. 

“Why are we fine?” C.J. asks back, incredulously. 

“Yes. You just admitted you think your boyfriend isn’t happy with who you are. That doesn’t make you angry?”

“Not really.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, Stanley!” C.J. signs, exasperated. “It just doesn’t.”

“You get angry often, C.J. I’ve seen it today.”

“You’re damn right I get angry!” C.J. yells before covering her mouth.

“So why doesn’t your boyfriend not liking who you are make you angry?” Stanley asks again. 

C.J. sits in silence, one hand on her forehead and her eyes squeezed shut.

“Is it because  _ you _ don’t like who you are right now?”

“Stanley-”

“Is it because you don’t like who are, C.J.?”

“I’m the White House Chief of Staff, Stanley.”

“That’s not answer.”

“I’m the first woman to ever hold that position,” C.J. informs him, eyes still closed.

“Yes.”

“I must be pretty damn impressive to pull that off.” C.J. tries to pull a self-assured smile, but it dies and she doesn’t attempt it again.

“C.J., I need you to answer my question. Do you like who you are right now?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know. C.J., we can do this all day, but someone is going to owe me a lot of money, and I’m not going to be able to help you. Now, do you like who you are right now?” She pauses, looks at the exit, looks at the ceiling, looks at her hands on the table.

“No,” she whispers. 

“Okay,” Stanley says, eyes softening for a moment.

“Goddammit Stanley, what was the point of that?” she demands, standing up, desperately trying to blink away tears.

“What?”

“Why did you make me say that? You knew the answer, you knew why I was dodging your question, you knew and you made me say it anyway!” C.J. hisses. It feels like an invasion of privacy. Like her dark secret that she’d been trying to squash for months now has been thrown unceremoniously into the sun. She wants to hide. Most of all, she knows she shouldn’t have said that, because now there’s a giant hole in the place where she shoves all the pain when she needs to work and if she doesn’t want things to randomly leak out and to become even more needlessly melodramatic than she already is, she needs to fix the hole. Stanley robbed her of her cover, and it fucking hurts. She’s so buried in a storm of half-formed thoughts she barely hears his answer.

“Because now we can talk about it.”

“What if I don’t want to talk about it?” C.J. asks, but she sits down and the fire is gone. 

“Then you can leave. But now you’ve acknowledged that there’s a problem. That’s important,” Stanley assures her. 

“How do I fix it?” C.J. asks, staring at the table, feeling drained. 

“It’s not that simple. But you can start by telling me what you think is wrong with yourself.”

“I can’t do relationships. I’ve tried but I can’t. We covered how I’m not funny anymore. I don’t know how to share my life. I can never relax. I get irritated at  _ everything _ lately. When you put it together... I just can’t make relationships stick.” She says that because it’s the most obvious, and she’s already in the hole, so she might as well keep digging. 

“Do you think this because Danny said you can’t?” 

“Because Danny said I can’t, because I know I can’t, because all my friends left and I have no one anymore so clearly I can’t, you take your pick.” She makes a waving gesture with her hand and looks down, but is relieved to have some of the casualness back in her voice.

“You think your friends left because you can’t do relationships?” Stanley asks. She’s really getting tired of how everything he says is so… unemotional.

“Not really, not consciously at least. I really don’t know why I just said that. I don’t know I said any part of what I’ve just said. I think it’s best if we ignore it. Let’s move on.”

“Let’s not. You mentioned your friends. You’re the only one left here. The rest of them are gone. What the hell happened with your friends?”

“You said it yourself, Stanley. They were here, and that was great, now they’re not and it kind of sucks. Not much else to it.”

“You think they abandoned you?”

“Isn’t that what you ask a child whose parents are going through a messy divorce?”

“C.J., we’ve been over this so many times. You can either answer the question or waste both of our time, but the question is not going to go away just because you crack a joke or make a clever observation.”

“I guess I feel a little abandoned,” she admits, but she still has enough dignity to add, “but not in the pathetic puppy dog sort of way, in the ‘we had a mission, where I my fellow soldiers?’ way. I’m disappointed. I just, I thought we’d stay here until the end.”

“You thought all of them were going to stay?” Stanley asks.

“I don’t know. Probably not. I just didn’t think about it when I could avoid it.”

“So you’re referring to Toby when you mentioned sticking around?”

“Let’s not talk about Toby,” C.J. said quickly, forcing herself to meet Stanley’s eyes and give him her best Chief of Staff glare.

“Actually, I think you need to talk about Toby. He was your closest friend. He brought you on to the Presidential campaign. He promised you he’s stick by you.”

“How do you know that?” C.J. demands.

“I talked to Josh. So, when you mentioned sticking together until the end, were you referring to Toby?”

“Yes,” C.J. says after a pause.

“Do you think he did what he did to hurt you?” Stanley asks. 

“I’ve been asked that question so many times, Stanley,” C.J. sighs. “No, I don’t, but it doesn’t make it any better. I don’t know why, but it just doesn’t. I guess I think that no matter what his intentions were he still decided that something was more important than me and the President.”

“Even if he was trying to save lives?”

“You don’t think I’ve thought about that? How self-centered it is for me to be mad at him when he got those men home to their families? I just didn’t think it was going to end that way. Hell, I didn’t think it was going to end at all if I’m being honest.” C.J. pauses. “He let me hang there, you know? Even as the President ostracized me. As Oliver Babish pointed fingers in my face. As I drove myself insane. I started seeing weird yellow-purple colors in the back of my head because I hadn’t slept in three days. He knew why I was slowly going crazy. And he let me hang there. He just let me suffer. He was supposed to be my best friend.” She shoves a hand that was starting to shake under the table and sighs, closing her eyes and leaning back.

“That really sucks,” Stanley says. This time C.J. does manage a sardonic smile.

“Yeah. But I miss him. He dragged me under the bus from here to Maine and I still miss him. I don’t want to. I want to be like Kate and hate him for betraying the President but he was my best friend and I miss him every time I walk past his office.” She takes a deep breath and lets out a dry laugh. “How pathetic is that?”

“It’s not pathetic, C.J. It just sounds like you’re lonely.”

“Great. That makes me feel amazing. I’m really glad we talked.”

“What about Josh?”

“Excuse me?”

“Were you angry when Josh left?”

“Well, Josh I expected. He’s got a lengthy career ahead of him. Both Hoynes and Russell offered him positions, of course he was going to leave. It hurt, but I guess I got over it.”

“Then why couldn’t you talk to him?”

“Because we aren’t really friends anymore,” she says sadly. C.J. has given up hiding. She just wants to get out of here, and it feels good to talk to someone who she can sue for several million dollars if he revealed anything she told him.

“Why not?”

“We’re on the same team anymore. I went in thinking maybe we’d be friends again but in the end he just wanted to talk to the Chief of Staff. Leo lite, if you will. And I was fine with that.” 

“You were?”

“Well clearly not because here you are, Stanley.”

“What do you think would happen if you talked to Josh now?”

“About this?” she gestures to indicate the room and the conversation.

“Yes.”

“Honestly? As in answer almost too stupid to say out loud?”

“Yes.”

“I think he’d be disgusted.” 

“Why?”

“Because he has an excuse for feeling like shit,” C.J. says before she can stop herself. “He was shot. He almost died. He ran an intense political campaign. He has the right to feel terrible.”

“And you don’t?”

“No, of course I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I have a great boyfriend, a great job, I make history on a daily basis just by going to work, I’m going to California. I shouldn’t feel like the world is ending and like it isn’t ever going to get any better. I have a better life than almost anyone on the planet, and I still feel like I have nothing. I’m the White House Chief of Staff and I still feel like I’m useless. It feels like a slap in the face to anyone who’s actually in a bad situation.”

“First of all, if you look at the research, people of all socioeconomic backgrounds, races, genders, and ages can face difficulties like the ones you’re describing. You don’t need an excuse. I’d like to ask you about one thing, the administration is coming to an end, you’re going to be leaving this high stress environment, you don’t think that will make things better, at all?” Stanley asks.

“Everyone’s been saying it will all be magically better as soon as I step foot in California but I guess I just don’t get it,” C.J. sighs. “In California I’ll have the same lack of friends, the same boyfriend whose expectations I will never meet, the same feelings of uselessness, except it will be too late to use my power as Chief of Staff to fix anything. Everyone says leaving the White House is a way out but I just don’t see it. I don’t see the end.”

“Then why are you leaving?”

“I have to get out of here. I can’t explain it but I have to. I can’t sit here another year just wishing for times past, I have to get out. I don’t think it will fix everything, but I have to get out before I waste away into nothing.”

“If you don’t think anything will change, then why haven’t you talked to anyone before?” Stanley asks.

“Did you see what they did to Dorothy Baker?” C.J. asks back. “Her husband had to drop out of the Presidential race.  _ This _ Presidential race. Last year. Not 1850, 2006. All because his wife was depressed. She wasn’t the ideal First Lady. They tried to pretend it wasn’t about the depression but it was. I was scared of what someone would find. Of what someone would leak.” C.J. pauses, and gives Stanley a tired smile. “But I did talk to someone,” she says, though she knows that Stanley knows this.

“You did indeed.”

“I talked to you, and you’re supposed to fix me. So, what do I do?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“I was afraid you would say that.”

“Well, first, I’m going to refer you to a therapist based in California. A friend of mine who works specifically with people who work in high stress jobs. She’ll help you from here. But for now I think you need to talk to your old friends. And, unless you really  _ want _ to work to meet your boyfriend’s expectations, I’d suggest considering if you have a future with him. The guilt at your emotions and at being unable to meet his expectations was probably the root of all the apologizing, and I’m guessing it’s starting to leak into other conversations and decisions, so I want you to do some research on mental health problems to help get rid of the assumption that you shouldn’t have a mental health problem. But that’s about it. We haven’t covered everything, but it was a start.”

“That’s it? No wonder pill, no follow up, no miracle cure... that’s it?” 

“Well you’ve had one appointment, so yeah, you’re not ‘fixed'. But you’ll improve over time. You’ll reconnect with some friends, or you’ll make new ones. You’ll fix your problems with Danny, or you’ll get a new boyfriend. I’ll tell you what I told Josh: people get better.”

“Great.”

“Good night, Ms. Cregg.”

“Good night, thanks for everything.” 

 

After Stanley was gone, C.J. picked up her briefcase and headed into the hall. She sighed as she saw Danny waiting for her.

“Where the hell have you been?” Danny demanded.

“I called. I told you I had a thing tonight.”

“I just saw a man exit, what’s going on?”

“I was talking to someone.”

“For that long?”

“Yes.”

“C.J., you’re supposed to… I don’t know… you’re supposed to check in with me. You’re supposed to involve me in these things!”

“Well, I didn’t,” C.J. said, because there was nothing else to say. She had made the decision not to tell him she was seeing a therapist, and was making the decision that she couldn’t tell him now. “All I can tell you is that I needed to talk to someone.”

“And you couldn’t talk to me? I’m your partner! We’re a team!”

“Are we?”

“C.J.-”

“I mean it. I couldn’t talk to you, everything I do and say makes you angry. Nothing I do is good enough. You claim you need nothing, but I… I don’t believe you.” C.J. took a deep breath. She was aware she was still a little off-balance, and if she was smart she would wait until tomorrow, but Danny had said he wanted them to talk.

“Let’s go home,” Danny said simply, reaching for her hand. C.J. paused for a moment before taking it.

“Fine.” She lets him lead her out. She was definitely being pushed off a cliff. Hopefully she’d land on her feet. 

 


End file.
